Snow
by Chrikaru
Summary: Complete. One-shot, in three parts. Tanyuu watches the snow falling; something so beautiful yet hateful, a contradiction, just like Ginko who comes and goes like the seasons.
1. Hope

Author's note: Just a little one-shot I was inspired to write one night - hope you enjoy it!

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Tanyuu hissed slightly as her movement caused pain to shoot up her leg.

She had been sitting in the same position for too long, simply watching the snow fall and allowing it to muffle the sound of any distractions.

When she was a child she had loved the snow, excitement making her forget her pain for once and run out to play like any ordinary child. But she wasn't ordinary and that became clearer with every year she lived.

Now the snow brought with it a kind of melancholy followed by a dread that it should last too long. The snow kept travellers from reaching them in their remote holding. No travellers meant no stories so she had to resort to other methods to keep her mushi under control... none of which were pleasant. She looked up at the dark sky, silently praying for the snow to fall more slowly.

Tanyuu glanced at the calendar, counting back the days and months since the last time her most faithful storyteller had visited.

It had been summer then, the evenings just beginning to darken and cool into autumn.

A flash of silver at the gate, a familiar tread on the step and the smell of rain and tobacco had wound itself around her, as surely as Ginko's voice had held her in a thrall until long into the night. Her mushi reacted to him too, simultaneously reaching out towards something that fascinated them yet poised like a startled animal, ready to flee at any second. They could always tell when he was close.

His presence both excited and calmed her as it did her mushi, his stories arousing a fierce ache at the fact that she would never see the world he described. He alone seemed to understand her craving to explore outside the four walls of her home and her prison. He described his travels lovingly, lingering over the smallest detail of texture and colour and scent, knowing that Tanyuu was hanging on his every word hungrily, storing his tales away as half-forgotten memories of her own. She tried to keep him for as long as possible, asking him to retell her favourite parts and he would do so, the cadence of his voice never changing with impatience or boredom.

They would sit close together in the darkness long after he stopped speaking, the silence between them full of all the things they could never say aloud. The line of warmth where their knees almost touched, an unconscious movement that stopped a breath away from being a caress; something delicate that they could never acknowledge.

Ginko always left without saying goodbye.

He understood how much control it took everytime for Tanyuu to let him walk away without calling out and he knew that he would not be able to resist her plea if she did call after him. Tanyuu watched until he was out of sight and he never looked back when he left, not once. Everytime he avoided farewells and continued when he came back as if he had never left...even if he couldn't stay he could at least make sure that he never said goodbye.

And that was as good as a promise that he would always come back.

She reached for the lantern as the light faded, her movements unconsciously graceful, weaving an illusion of a forgotten princess, banished from her kingdom...the illusion shattered abruptly as Tanyuu was forced to her feet to get a match. Her face twisted ruefully; not even she could make that lurching movement graceful. The lantern lit she settled back down again and pulled the blanket tightly around her so that she could delay closing the screen doors a little longer.

The falling snow was so beautiful, muting sound and changing the world into something out of the fairytales she adored. It was still beautiful, even though she knew that each flake that fell made it more likely that the mountain passes would become impassable.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt it; the slight vibration of the mushi beneath her skin that had become so achingly familiar. Her heart sped up...she hardly dared to hope. Was that a shadow by the gate? A flash of silver...or was it just her fevered imagination showing her what she wanted to see? Surely she wasn't imagining the crunch of a booted foot on fresh-fallen snow...or the tell-tale cloud of white around the traveller's head...she leaned forward, holding the lantern up high.

There, definitely a flash of silver...a gleam of teeth through the darkness. Tanyuu's lips turned up as she returned the grin with a radiant smile of her own.

She no longer cared just how heavily the snow fell.

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Author's note: Thank you all for reading and please let me know what you thought of it! All feedback is very much appreciated! I was inspired to write this after watching the live action movie of Mushishi when I was in Japan...and listening to the soundtrack from the anime recently reminded me about it. The character of Tanyuu really caught my imagination.

Thanks again for reading and hope to see you all again soon!

^_^

Chrikaru


	2. Evanescence

Author's note: Just felt that the first (and last) part felt incomplete so decided to extend this into a three-shot (if there is such a word?) Hope you enjoy it and next part will be up soon!

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Tanyuu shot up in her futon, breathing heavily. Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs that she was sure that everyone could hear it. Her skin was clammy with sweat, chilling her as the blankets fell to pool around her waist, and her cheeks were wet as if with tears.

Her mushi were agitated, moving, burning underneath her skin and Tanyuu let out a low, keening sound as her head fell forwards into her hands.

Deep breaths...despite her mushi's reaction it seemed that there was no immediate threat. Perhaps they had simple become worked up at the images in her nightmare.

Sleep a distant stranger, and the pain under control Tanyuu crawled gracelessly from the futon, dragging the upper blanket with her as she made her slow progress to the door. The night air was deceptively mild, despite the white blanket of snow as far as one could see. Letting her bare feet dangle off the edge of the decking, Tanyuu drew her blanket around her and stared up at the sky.

On clear nights such as this the stars looked close enough to touch...and sometimes she wished she could do just that. She knew the names of all of them; they and their stories were old friends.

How many nights had she spent seated on this porch, reciting the names as she traced their shapes with a longing hand?

How many years had it been since she had come to this remote place, as a child not yet realising that she would never leave?

There had been many sleepless nights, particularly at the beginning, when she would wake at the slightest noise, heart leaping in her chest at the thought that her parents had come back for her. Yet she had hoped in vain and their once familiar footsteps had become nothing more than a painful memory.

She started as a jacket was placed around her shoulders and the smell of woodsmoke filled her nostrils.

"Bad dream?"

Ginko; how long had he been there?

It was only then that Tanyuu realised that she was shaking; a slow trembling that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the disturbing images in her dreams, which even now had become vague, yet still retained their unpleasant aftertaste.

Ginko was crouched beside her, a lit cigarette dangling carelessly from one hand. Tanyuu wrinkled her nose; she had hated the smell of cigarette smoke until she had met Ginko...yet somehow now it had become comforting.

They sat in silence for a long time, long enough for Ginko's cigarette to burn down to nothingness. He didn't even seem interested in smoking it, his own gaze unfocused as he watched the point of red in the darkness burn slowly away.

In the pause between finishing one and lighting another he sat down on the edge of the porch, his own bare feet dangling alongside Tanyuu's and seemingly as unaffected by the cold. Tanyuu took a deep breath and let it out slowly; her mushi had gone completely silent as soon as Ginko had placed his jacket around her shoulders and the sudden absence of their clamouring was restful. If she listened carefully she could still hear them, feel their caution of and curiosity about the man seated beside her, feel them creeping along her baby finger, where it almost touched his on the porch. Tanyuu was no longer shaking, the tension from her dream being pushed away by the aura of calm that Ginko exuded. And yet...and yet...something in her subconsciousness didn't want to let it go so easily, for she was sure that her dream had had something to do with him. Ginko interrupted her train of thought,

"Do you know the story of that one?"

He pointed upwards, hand steady and Tanyuu raised her eyes to locate the star he was referring to. Of course she knew the story, he knew as well as she did how many hours she had spent on this porch, how the stars were almost as familiar to her as old friends...or perhaps even more so since she had very few friends to speak of. Still, even knowing that he knew this, Tanyuu shook her head. She wanted to hear him tell the story and he would always indulge her.

Ginko's voice started, weaving its spell around her like it always did.

It was a story of love and separation, one that had probably been told a million times before, but never in the way Ginko told it. He never told the standard stories, or if he did, he changed them in such a way as to bring out an entirely new meaning...and Tanyuu always felt as if these meanings were just for her. Maybe it was silly, but she always felt as if his stories told her more about the way he thought than she could ever learn by knowing things like his favourite colour or food.

A small part of her liked to think that he kept these stories especially for her; that he didn't just keep visiting out of pity for her virtual imprisonment but because he wanted to.

He lit up another cigarette and Tanyuu shuffled slightly closer; Ginko was always so reassuringly solid...but she couldn't help the irrational fear that someday he would leave and never come back...that some day...one of the images in her dream came into sudden sharp focus and she drew in a shocked breath.

In her dream he had waded into a lake, while Tanyuu dragged herself on useless legs after him, calling out for him to stop. But he didn't hear her or her chose not to, and as she had watched he had slowly faded from existence. She had awakened when her knees had crashed into the sharp gravel of the beach, her cries ripping from her chest as her heart had fallen to pieces.

"Tanyuu"

His hands were on her shoulders, his voice urgent as he leaned in so close that their foreheads were almost touching.

Tanyuu came back to herself, gasping for breath, her heart clenching painfully. She couldn't breathe, couldn't draw air into her lungs nor let it escape; she was trapped.

A warm, calloused hand on her cheeks, but the tears kept falling faster than he could wipe them away so he returned it to her shoulders, now letting his forehead rest against hers as she tried to bring herself under control. he didn't question her as to what was wrong, simply waited so that she would know that she wasn't alone.

One hand clutched the front of his tunic, while the other clenched in the material over her own heart, as if the pressure could somehow relieve the pain. Ginko's hands moved up and down her arms in an awkward caress; he never knew how to deal with tears and Tanyuu knew that he was probably already intensely uncomfortable.

Yet still he stayed and that meant more than she could ever vocalize.

"Don't..." she began through her tears and she could feel Ginko stiffen, perhaps dreading that she would ask the impossible of him. They both knew that he couldn't stay.

Tanyuu struggled on, "I don't want you to disappear."

He didn't recoil when she laid her head on his chest, closer than they had even been before, listening to the reassuring pound of his heart. After a second his arms came hesitantly around her as well and Tanyuu tried to swallow her tears.

"Please don't disappear"

Ginko shook his head, "I won't..."

Yet even with her so upset he couldn't lie, "Not yet at least"

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**Author's note:** One more part to go which will be shorter than the first two. Hope you enjoyed it and feedback is always much appreciated!

Thank you to Rena - I'm very happy you enjoyed it! Also thank you to Taneya and Wolfpack15 for adding this story to your favourites.


	3. Bittersweet

**Author's note:** Final part. Hope you enjoy it!

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The next night he was there again, slumped casually against one of the roof supports smoking, as if he were simply there by chance and not through choice.

Tanyuu sat down near him but didn't speak. She couldn't help but be a little embarrassed at her actions from the night before...yet she trusted that Ginko would never mention it again unless she chose to bring it up. A small smile crept across her face, even then he would probably pretend that he had no idea of what she was talking about. That was Ginko's way...and his actions the night before were far from the impassive, indifferent character he liked to present.

After a while Tanyuu let her hand rest against his, then gradually snuck her hand into his, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing for fear that he might reject her touch. But instead his fingertips tightened briefly around hers before relaxing.

They sat in silence long into the night with just that one point of contact between them. It was enough...it was more than enough to get her through the long months of loneliness. Tanyuu didn't remember falling sleep, but when she did it was with a smile on her face.

Tanyuu woke with a cold certainty in her heart; Ginko was gone.

She knew it even before she pulled back the doors of the guest room to find his futon neatly folded or saw the single set of footprints in the freshly-fallen snow leading to the gate and beyond.

Ignoring the threat of snow beginning to fall once again, Tanyuu made her laborious way to the gate, leaning heavily on her stick. There, not far along the path, she could just make out the shadow of Ginko's back and catch the faint tune of his strangely tuneless whistling.

She took one step past the gate, lurched and almost fell. Some tiny part of her almost expected Ginko to catch her as he always seemed to have a sense of her movements...but he didn't. He was already too far away for that.

Tanyuu took one more tiny step, drew in her breath to call and then stopped. The call died in her throat before it could take flight; she could not ask the impossible.

Back straightening with determination she turned away from the retreating figure and began to make her slow way back to her home, her refuge, her cage.

He hadn't said goodbye, just as he never said goodbye everytime he left.

She tried to take it as a reassurance; no goodbye meant that he would come back. If he ever said goodbye it would mean that he really was going to disappear, just as her nightmare had prtended.

Her mushi were restless again, as if waking from a long sleep and it almost seemed as if they were reaching out, looking for the man now walking away from them. Tanyuu pushed them down savagely, focusing all of her attention on taking each step back to her room without faltering.

The sky was already dark and heavy with clouds promising snow so Tanyuu lit the lamp and folded herself painfully onto the cushion before her desk and began to write once again. If tears fell to smudge the ink it was no-one's business but her own. She would keep busy and the time until his next visit would pass swiftly...so she told herself every time he left...the pain of parting made every meeting more sweet...or bittersweet.

At the top of the next ridge a silver-haired traveller stopped to look back at the warm glow of the lantern through the grey morning. His face was unreadable but he seemed poised on the knife-edge of decision; continue or turn back? Once upon a time he had been strong enough to not even look back...but now...as he turned his back on the lonely house once again, he resolved not to look back again until the lantern was long out of sight...or else it would be too difficult to resist its pull.

Tanyuu looked with longing eyes into the distance as he faded into the forest.

Silently, it began to snow once more.

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**Author's note:** Hope you enjoyed it and all feedback will be welcomed with open arms. Thank you for reading!

Chrikaru


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